Gorillabuns

middle west

Day Ten: Living life on the edge.

Since we last met, I have washed my car a couple of times (incessantly) all the while trying to search and find where the fuck the cat piss smell is coming from within the confines of my moving home.

Going on week two: I CAN NOT FIND IT!!!! I might have to burn my car.

A couple of months ago, we finally installed new carpet in our house. In order to do so, we had to move 20 years of crap into the living room, dining room and into storage. For four bedrooms. We have played 'Russian Roulette' with our furniture. Some pieces have been moved, reused and just plain killed very tragically.

Celia received my old desk given to me when I turned 13-years-old from my mother who received it when she turned 13. Confused? I am too. Let's just say....

the furniture is old. or an 'antique'. or both.

I subsequently had to throw all of my hoarding contents from the many stages of my life from this desk into 5 Trader Joe's bags -  FINALLY deciding the relevance of keeping crap truly needed or trash it. Come on! 38 years of shit!!!

I did donate my VERY original "Hello Kitty" thumb tacks to Celia. The tacks I purchased from an actual Hello Kitty store in the mall from 1982!!!!! Talk about antiques!

I just knew! Knew there would be a great love and need for such novelties! I know. 

 

Someone asked about Frankie the other day.

He's still kicking it! 

So, NO! I did not divorce my husband over this fluffy bougie-bougie.

It seems, I am the one who takes care of him and yet? Yet is still obsessed with the man of the house.

The Dude took this pic. Not me. 

Hence, the sharpness of the pic.

but I still love this little bougie-bougie!

Still sending a card a day to a friend because more now than ever! We need to know people are thinking of us and care!

Because I AM ADD, I have now moved to designing wine bags and canvas totes with the following saying....

for friends and family.

Especially, when I deliver random-ass shit on their porch.

 

 

In times like these

you will receive 452 emails with the above opening statement, assuring you online and brick and mortar stores are freaking the fuck out. 

If you aren't, 'freaking the fuck out' well, I don't think I want to know you.

It is Day 3 of the furrior and well, I'm spiralling down the rabbit hole of being productive. 

I haven't washed my hair in a week, and not sure when I last bathed. Meh, who cares? I'm not seeing anyone. My family is ignoring me anyway.

 

As I am an only child, I have learned to entertain me, myself and I because I was a) weird, b) lived in apartment complexes with criminals and rapists surrounding us and scoping us out and c) well, raised by a single mother who wasn't a joiner. Love ya mom!

Three days into 'social distancing' and I have made a goal for myself to do something direct and worthwhile. I need human contact though (sorta). I mean I really don't want to see anyone. Just want the ability or option to do so if I feel particularly cute and/or clean.

I am sure this venture/adventure will last like a day or so but one can try to be thoughtful and intentional.

(thoughtful and intentional sounds like a self-help book title. I hate self-help books)  

I am going to send a letter, note and/or card to a friend or family member every day.

Like the olden days. 

by candlelight and quill pen.

Like Jo March or more like Dorothy Parker. 

I'll be adding my usual flair to each note.

Such as.....

If I like it enough, I'll have prints made for sale in my Etsy store.

One day.

when I wash my hair and such.

 

On the second day of the coronavirus, my true love gave to me...

hell.... over trying to save the world when peeps are losing their jobs minute by minute.

Because, I care and I want to get take-out and tip big-dog style! and yes, we aren't rolling in it...

I am very thankful my favorite liquor store is doing curbside service so all the alcoholics in town won't have to go to the hospital over the DT's. 

BTW: There is nothing funny about alcoholism and DT's just in case someone wants to jump on me over basically the only sentence I have written here.

My horoscope for today: Your body is a big warehouse. There are many small compartments within that labyrinth. 

hmmm. 'big warehouse'.

Figure out how to get paid for being yourself.

now that was even more of a laughable suggestion almighty stars!

 

This day has always been my favorite day to celebrate!!! I've called in sick to work while sitting in a bar to continue to drink with my best friend. I've shown up to a job interview still drunk because I danced until 3:30am and NAILED the interview because of my magnanimous spirit.

Now? I'm sitting at my desk, dusting off my computer and decrepit blog while watching MSNBC strongly suggesting to me how, we are in the shit.

Like MAD MAX kinda shit.

(me.... though, I don't own a shotgun and can't shoot one correctly because of my astigmatism...)

Like 1979 Mel Gibson shit.

Man, this movie messed.me.up in 9th grade! Adding to the trauma of when I watched this movie, my friend's mother dropped us off at a sketch theater because she had not a clue the theater was in essence an 'Adult Theater.'

The movie was showing because I guess they were trying to go legit? Though, some freaky as fuck old dudes, followed us around when we were the only peeps to order popcorn and drinks and wanted to go to the bathroom for very normal reasons. 

I do have to say, I am waaay more partial to the Tom Hardy, Mad Max in my old age...

God, he's hot!! 

anywho....

next up on my schedule?

listing some shit on eBay from my girls who have decided they don't like clothes that are not from a thrift store or Target.

Totally wish I could wear these....

Love, peace and quarantine 'yo self!